turning page
by bravevulnerability
Summary: 'He's been coming to her library for over a month now and she likes him, really likes him.' An AU that explores the meeting of a burdened librarian and a struggling writer. Three shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm sure it's been done before, but I walked into the library the other day and the idea of Kate Beckett as a librarian was too good to pass up. **

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_"Though we're tethered to the story we must tell_  
_When I saw you, well I knew we'd tell it well"_

_-Turning Page, Sleeping At Last_

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Kate plucks the last book from the metal cart and slides it into the correct spot on the shelf, dusting her fingers over its spine like she's welcoming the recently returned novel home. Closing time is approaching and she's considering heading home an extra fifteen minutes early. The library unfortunately doesn't receive too much traffic throughout the nine to five hour days it remains open to the public, so it's not as if she would be doing anyone a disservice.

She sighs, wondering what her mother was thinking investing so much money into a tiny library when the infamous New York Public Library is only a short drive into the city and offers a far more expansive selection. Of course Kate couldn't let her mother's dream die with her though, and she had immediately taken over as head librarian after Johanna Beckett's death. She enjoys the work, the constant company of pages filled with stories she's read at least once, but she's barely making enough to keep the place going most days and she fears she may finally have to close the doors on it for good in the near future.

She rests her head against a Steinbeck novel, breathes in the familiar scent of old books and through the regular tightening of her chest at the mere thought of giving up the only thing she has left of her mom.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry if this is a bad time…"

Kate lifts her head to see a man watching her, a pen and notepad in his hands and an expression of concern and curiosity flickering along his features.

"Do you work here?"

Kate swallows, glad she hadn't allowed herself the rare opportunity to cry, and nods.

"I do, did you need some help?"

"Sort of," he hedges, glancing towards the small cluster of tables near one of the windows towards the back of the building. "Do I have to check out a book to write here?"

Kate's brow furrows, her gaze falling back to the moleskin notebook against his chest.

"Write here?" she repeats and he nods quickly, all too ready to elaborate.

"Yeah, I'm working on my first novel - well, my first _real _novel - and it helps to have the right atmosphere, you know? I've passed by this place plenty of times, but I've never come inside and I like it. It's…" His eyes rove around the room, up to the stairs and the second level. "It's cozy."

"Mm," she concurs. "Enjoy it while you can."

His eyes dart back to her, that strange burst of concern returning to the sharp blue of his irises. "What do you mean?"

Kate tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before crossing her arms over her chest, more to hold herself together rather than away from him.

"I'll probably be shut down in a matter of months," she confesses on a sigh. "Not enough business."

His frown deepens. "How about I make you a deal?"

She quirks her brow at him in interest, but solely to indulge whatever act of chivalry this wannabe writer is going to attempt to display because she already knows that no deal will do her or her library any good.

"If my book does well, which I have high hopes for this one, then I'll help you keep this place open. Since you're allowing me to use the space to help my writer's imagination thrive and all."

Her lips curve into a tired smile. He's sweet, which is a nice change. Usually the men that come inside her library take one look at her and forget about whatever original purpose they may have had in favor of flirting, usually the men that come inside her library make her want to use one of her books as a weapon, but this one, the writer… he's different and even though she knows he can't really help her, he wants to try and that means something to her.

"I'm Kate," she says finally, holding her hand out to him, grinning when he accepts it eagerly.

"Rick Rodg- Castle," he decides with a resolute nod. "Rick Castle."

"Well, Mr. Castle," she echoes with a grin, squeezing his hand once before letting go. "You've got yourself a deal."


	2. Chapter 2

"_Kaaate_."

Her name rings out from the upper level and she glares at him from her desk. She can see him clearly from her spot as she attempts to file paperwork on the computer, and he can see her as well, which is exactly why he chose to sit up there. But she knows that tone, knows he's pouting because he's a little over halfway through his book and has been suffering from a bad case of writer's block for the last four days.

"What?" she huffs loud enough for him to hear.

"Take a break from your librarian duties and come entertain me instead."

Kate rolls her eyes and returns her gaze to the computer screen.

"Castle, write your book," she calls back, organizing the new set of novels that shipped in last week into the library's catalog.

"I _can't_," he groans and she sighs, giving up too easily and pushing back from her desk, rising from her office chair.

He radiates delight as she stomps up the carpeted stairs in her heels, scowling at him the entire time.

"What has you so hung up anyway?" she demands, propping one of her hands on the back of his chair and the other on the surface of the table as she leans forward to sneak a peek at his notebook.

His spine straightens at the brush of her chest to his back, his breath catching, and she feels her own heart tumble against her ribcage, but ignores the sensation of being close to him in favor of examining his work.

His notebook is opened and his laptop is here too, for when he needs to look back on the 100 pages he already has written and prepared to send to his publisher, but his computer's lid is currently closed. He writes everything out first with his own hand and a pen first she's noticed, sitting in her library from morning to evening, filling pages upon pages with black ink.

"Well, there's a blackout in the city and Nikki-"

"Still hate that name," she mutters.

"Is on her way back home when she runs into Rook outside her building."

Kate bites her bottom lip as her eyes scan the page he's discreetly attempting to cover with his fingers. She knows what he's writing now, knows where he's taking these two characters.

"I don't think you're blocked, Castle," she decides, standing up straight behind him, trailing her hand along his arm and smirking when he twists in his seat to look up at her in thinly veiled confusion.

"I'm not?"

"No," she murmurs. "I just think you need some inspiration."

He's been coming to her library for over a month now and she likes him, really likes him, so she doesn't waver when he shifts from his seat and moves to stand before her, stepping closer until he has her backed up against a bookshelf.

For once, he doesn't speak. His eyes caress her face, studying her so intently it's almost uncomfortable, but then his hands touch her cheek, reverent as they trace along her skin, down to her neck, through her hair, and she allows herself the same luxury, dusting fingertips along his jaw, his ears, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. His breath stutters past his lips, coating her fingertip and she replaces her thumb with her mouth.

She hums as he kisses her, warmth spreading from the fusion of their lips throughout her limbs, filling cold, empty spaces that have been a part of her since that frigid day in January of '99.

"Inspiration," he repeats, nipping at her lip, sucking at her jugular, slowly driving her wild. "Every time I look at you I find inspiration."


	3. Chapter 3

"Did you read the reviews?!"

The quiet of the library is shattered as Richard Castle comes bursting through the double doors, waving a hardcover in one of his hands. Kate bites back her smile – _of course _she's read the reviews – and comes around the front desk just in time to meet him.

"It's a bestseller, Kate. A bestseller!"

His childlike excitement illuminates the entire building and she smiles bigger than she has in years, so very proud of him. She laughs when he lifts her off her feet in the middle of the room, spinning her around before lowering her to the floor again.

"My agent is predicting I'll make millions and they're offering me a three book deal!" he tells her, beaming down at her, and her heart feels full, full with joy and happiness for him, but in the deepest corner of the fragile muscle, uncertainty blooms.

He's going to become a millionaire, he's going to write three more brilliant novels about Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook and he won't need her or her broken down library anymore.

He's going to disappear and as quickly as her heart had expanded with joy, it suddenly shrivels with hurt and crippling heartache.

He's still babbling, gushing over every new detail of his budding success and she forces herself to listen, to keep smiling and nod in all the right places, but he catches on when he looks down, around the same time her eyes start to sting.

"Kate?" he murmurs, setting the book he brought in with him on the front desk and using his freed hand to cradle the side of her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she insists. "Nothing, I'm just - I'm so happy for you."

He tilts his head in confusion, trying to study her as if she's a novel with a perplexing plotline.

"This is good, Kate," he says softer, his eyes simmering from the vibrant excitement to a calming shade of cerulean. "We'll be able to fix up the library, bring in new business and-"

"No, Rick," she shakes her head, sending his hand tumbling to her shoulder. "I don't want you spending your money on this place, on me."

"But we made a deal, remember?" He squeezes her shoulder, squeezes hard like he can feel her slipping away and needs to hold onto her. "And I love this place, I love-" He pauses to swallow. "I love you. Did you think that just because things are going to change, I would too?"

He looks hurt by the accusation he's come to and she closes her eyes, hates herself for putting that expression on his face when he had come in here overflowing with such radiant exuberance. And he loves her. They spend nearly every day together, they share a bed, share their stories and their hearts with each other, but they've never uttered those three words to one another until now.

"I don't want to hold you back," she whispers, keeping her eyes shut. "I don't want to be the thing that lessens your success."

"Kate, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You told me your agent pitched the idea of you portraying a playboy persona to the public," she reminds him softly with a sad smile, finally forcing herself to stop being a coward and open her damn eyes. "Where will a girlfriend fit?"

"I said she pitched it, I never said I accepted it," he points out.

"But what if-"

"Kate," he cuts her off, stern this time, bringing both of his warm, familiar palms to the hollow spaces of her cheeks. "I love you and I would never choose anything that would change that or risk losing you." She bites her lip, apprehension still rattling along her ribcage, but he smiles, soft and sure, and the panic stills. "I'm not leaving you."

The whimper slips unwelcome and unexpected from her lips, the tears do the same as they trickle over his hands, but they stem from the spread of growing relief in her chest, from the assurance that he'll stay when everyone else in her life that she's ever truly loved has gone.

She's only cried in front of him once throughout the near year she's known him, when she told him about her parents, about her mother's murder and her father's descent into the bottle that he never came out of.

"I love you too," she whispers, lacing an arm around his waist, drawing a hand to his cheek, dusting her fingers along the smattering stubble. "Love you so much, Castle."

The joy in his eyes reignites, bright flares of blue bursting in his irises, and he surges forward, kissing her hard enough to knock her back against the desk behind them. She moans, tugging him closer and opening for more, but her body pressed up against the front desk seems to spark something and he quickly detaches from her with a warm smile and reaches for the book he had deposited on the desk's surface.

"Here, I bought you the first copy."

She grins, accepting the freshly printed novel he places in her hands with eager fingers. She's read snippets, pieces of paragraphs he didn't try to hide from her, and she knows quite a few spoilers, but to have the actual book in her hands, the product of all of his hard work at her fingertips, is exhilarating.

"I'm so proud of you," she admits, using the advantage of her heels to lean forward and plant one more gentle kiss to his lips. "So proud, Rick."

A subtle blush colors the apples of his cheeks, but gratitude blossoms in his eyes at the praise before his focus returns to the book in her grasp.

"Open it," he prompts. "I want to know what you think of the dedication."

Castle releases his hold on her waist to migrate to her back, propping his chin on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her middle as he waits. She rolls her eyes but flips the book open, splaying her fingers over the title page before gingerly turning onto the next.

_To KB:_

_ There are not enough words nor pages to capture how inspiring you truly are._

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**A/N: **Thank you to those of you who came along for this little AU journey. While brief, it was a joy to write and I hope you enjoyed.


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